


Life After the Fall of Erebor

by thudworm



Series: Baruf Bijabaz [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Durin Family Feels, Gen, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Quest, Warnings in Chapter Notes when Relevant, sex and/or gender changes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2428850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thudworm/pseuds/thudworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of related one-shots about the lives of the dwarves before they joined quest for Erebor.</p><p>An understanding of my <a href="http://thudworm.tumblr.com/post/96611823079/dwarvish-gender-headcanon">dwarvish gender headcanon</a> may be relevant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bifur's Axe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Bifur gained the axe in her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Character Death, Non-graphic Violence, Miscarriage
> 
> This is not a happy chapter, and I am so sorry for everything.

**2865**

 

There was nothing Bifur enjoyed more than bringing a smile to the face of a child, regardless of if they were a dwarrow or human child. It was the main reason for her choice in trade as a toymaker. There was also the satisfaction that all dwarves felt when they were able to devote themselves to their chosen craft and the accompanying sense of accomplishment at a completed task.

There was not much in the way of wealth to be found as a toymaker, especially amongst a people in exile who were not in a secure position for the next generation to be born. This was why Bifur, and her partner Suba, took whichever odd jobs they were able to find. They had their cart, and it contained all they had in the world. From settlement to settlement they would move, always seeking out as much work as they could, but before long they would needed to move on in search of more.

Bifur’s talent lay in toys carved from wood, with features almost too detailed to be believed, while Suba tended more to working in metals. The best toys were the ones they worked together to create, such as wooden warriors from dwarvish history tales carrying metal replicas of their favourite weapons. The best ones also had posable limbs, allowing for recreations of famous battle scenes.

Most of their income came from the repairs they were hired to carry out, varying from mending household items to assisting in the construction of new dwellings. Often the dwarves they accepted jobs from did not have the coin to spare to pay, and would instead offer a trade. Bifur and Suba were always willing to find some compromise for those who couldn’t pay, and would instead trade their skills in exchange for food, or new clothes when theirs were wearing thin, or new blankets when winter was fast approaching.

This was their life together for years, and although they were fiercely happy as long as they had each other, they could not help but wish for more.

A child of their own was something both Bifur and Suba desperately desired, although they agreed that it would be unwise without a more secure income and a place to live that was not a rickety wagon. Despite their best efforts to improve their business and attract customers they went hungry on more than one occasion; and there was only so much that repeated patching was able to do for threadbare clothes. Things would be better if they could set up a proper shop, it would ensure a steadier customer base, and they would perhaps be able to begin to take custom commissions. But this was little more than an impossible seeming dream to them, because there was no way they would ever be able to save enough coin to establish such a shop.

*

Bifur was always happy when their travelling brought them back around to the main dwarvish settlement in the Blue Mountains, known simply as Gunûd, because she was able to spend time with her cousins Bofur and Bombur. Her cousins would refuse to let them stay anywhere other than the small house they lived in.  

Their time spent in Gunûd was the most successful part of the year, bringing in the most coin for their efforts and enabling them to buy the supplies they needed at a better price. Each morning they would head to the market place to sell their wares and accept the odd tinker jobs they could. Each evening they would return to house, which became quite crowded with their presence.

It was in their second week in Gunûd that Suba noticed the mail caravan had returned from the Iron Hills, and that it was looking to hire. Excitedly, she approached the caravan leader to learn which positions were being recruited for, and more importantly how well the jobs would pay.

“Excuse me, what jobs are there you’re looking to hire for?”

“We’re in desperate need for more capable fighters to act as guards mostly. One of the cooks has decided not continue with us on this next journey, so it would be nice to find another, but it’s the guards we need. The orcs are growing bolder. Usually we’d have two or three skirmishes to put down, but as we were returning this time it was seven attacks.”

“What sort of pay are you offering for those willing to sign on with you?”

When the leader named his rate Suba couldn’t hide her astonishment. “That… That’s a lot of coin for a few months’ work.”

“Aye, well it’s not easy work, that’s for sure. Not the safest of jobs neither. It’s still better than working the mines though, in my opinion.”

“You may have just found yourself two news guards. I can’t say for certain, not without talking it through with my partner, but I don’t see us turning down the chance to earn that much coin at once.”

“If you decide to join then you’ll need to prove yourselves first before I take you on for certain. No use having guards who don’t know one end of an axe from the other.”

Suba grinned at that, a smile that was mostly teeth. “I can guarantee that won’t be a problem for either if us. I’ve never seen anyone able to best Bifur when she fights with her boar spear, and I’m not to be underestimated with my warhammer, if I do say so myself.”

“Well, I’ll be around here during market hours for the rest of the week. Name’s Globir. If I’m not around just speak to one of these others, they’ll know where to find me. If you do decide to join I need to know by the end of the week, so I know what I’ve got to work with. We leave at the end of next week.”

With that, Globir turned away, and began shouting orders at the dwarves already enlisted, as they were apparently standing around slacking off. Suba didn’t try to hide her amusement at the scene before continuing back to where Bifur was with their cart, spruiking their wares.

Bifur was annoyed with her at first for taking so long to return, leaving her to do all the work, but when Suba excitedly explained what had kept her Bifur’s mood became just as excited as her partners. They were both eager for the chance to be able to earn enough to start living their lives the way they had always dreamed to, and there was no hesitation when they returned to meet with Globir the next day.

The demonstration of their fighting abilities was not at all an issue for them, by the end of their sparring match quite a few dwarves had gathered to watch and all were impressed by the display, including Globir, whose opinion was the only one to really matter.

*

Informing Bofur and Bombur of the change to their usual plans was easier said than done. They were more like siblings to Bifur than just cousins, and she regretted the necessity of spending such a large part of her time away from them. The siblings were young to be living independently, but they managed themselves well enough. Bofur’s work in the mines brought in a steady enough income to keep them feed and clothed; Bombur, who was studying to become an architect, picked up whatever work she could in the kitchens to supplement their income.

Usually Bifur and Suba would be with Bofur and Bombur for several months each year, instead of the few short weeks this visit would now be for. The siblings understood even though they were disappointed, but all four dwarves were hopeful that this may perhaps be the last time Bifur and Suba would need to leave for long stretches of time. If the pay was as generous as they had been told then it would hopefully be enough to allow them to settle for good in Gunûd. Bofur had some skill at toymaking also, though he had not had the same level of practice as Bifur. If given the choice he would abandon the dangerous work of mining to spend his time working with Bifur and Suba, but he was not free to abandon the only guaranteed income for their family.

Suba was almost as close to Bofur and Bombur as Bifur was, considering them to be like siblings to her as well. She had no family she knew of alive, but she had been practically adopted into Bifur’s family when they had begun their relationship.

It was a difficult goodbye for all of them, and it was with heavy hearts that Bifur and Suba left Bofur and Bombur’s house. In an attempt to lighten the dark mood that had fallen on them all, Suba teased Bombur about his (supposedly secret) burgeoning relationship with a fellow worker in the kitchens. The final sight that Bifur and Suba had as they left was of Bombur flushed as red as her beard in embarrassment, and Bofur laughing so hard beside her he was unable to remain standing without clutching the doorframe.

*

The day of their departure was a cold and overcast one, but they had hopes that the weather would be kind, and the rain would at least wait until they had established their camp for the first time. The first day of travelling passed uneventfully, and it seemed that luck would be on their side. However, it was once the order to stop and begin setting up was given that the sky opened up, and rain began to pelt down.

With much cursing and grumbling Bifur and Suba set about putting up their tent, a task made much more difficult than usual due to the weather. After a third failed attempt they were approached by a blond haired dwarf with many braids hanging about their head.

“Looks like an extra pair of hands might come in handy there! If you’re willing to share some space, I’d be happy to help you out.”

Exchanging a look with Suba, Bifur shrugged and waved the dwarf over to help. The extra person helping made all the difference, and in no time all three dwarves were safely sheltered inside the tent and away from the rain.

“Oh, how rude of me, I haven’t introduced myself yet. Vili, at your service.”

“Bifur-“

“and Suba-“

“at your service.” They finished the traditional greeting together.

“That’s impressive, that is,” said Vili with a grin, “not many dwarves I’ve met who’ve got that to work so well together.”

The rain was beating down loudly on the fabric of the tent, making it difficult for any conversation to occur. The tent was not designed to accommodate three full grown dwarves, and it took quite a bit of shuffling and more than one elbow to the ribs before all three were able to find positions not too uncomfortable for sleeping.

The rain had stopped by the time morning came around, the sky a clear blue with barely a cloud in sight. The ground however showed clear signs of the downpour, with much mud and many large puddles. It would mean travelling more slowly today to avoid injuring their ponies with a slip or trip on the poorly conditioned path.

The slower pace set allowed for more conversation amongst the members of the caravan, many of whom had never met or worked together before. Over the course of the day a great many cheers could be heard whenever two dwarves traced a familial connection between them, and it became something of a game to trace a link between them all. Some were rather tenuous links, such as one dwarf’s sister’s husband working in the same part of the mines as another’s cousin’s daughter’s partner.

*

A fast friendship had grown between Vili, Bifur, and Suba. Their tents were pitched together every evening when camp was set up; and almost all of their meals were eaten together during the first week of the journey. Conversations covered a wide range of topics, but the most common was sharing stories of what their lives were like back in the Blue Mountains. Suba spoke mainly of the life she and Bifur spent on the road, travelling from village to village, selling their wares and accepting odd jobs. Bifur was fond of sharing stories of his childhood; she had grown up closely with Bofur and Bombur, and they were more like siblings to her than just cousins.

Vili spoke often of their husband and of their two young dwarflings, one just turned 6 years old, the other not yet 6 months old. However, it wasn’t until after group had dealt with a small group of goblins attempting to attack the caravan that Bifur and Suba learned just who Vili was married to.

The skirmish was a minor one, only dozen or so goblins making the unwise decision to attack a group of more than three dozen dwarves, all armed and able to defend themselves well. Vili’s weapon of choice was a sword, and although they were not unskilled, they lacked the confidence born of familiarity. It was clear to those with plenty of experience, such as Bifur and Suba, that Vili was not a dwarf at ease with fighting.

Although the goblins were put down easily enough no one wanted to remain in the area and set up so close to where they were attacked. The caravan moved on, travelling several hours later into the evening than typical. The easy going attitude that had been present earlier had disappeared, no casual jokes were being shouted out, and no conversation could be heard other than their leader, Globir, barking orders. Everyone was on high alert, reacting to the slightest sounds and anticipating further trouble. Their worry was for nothing, there was no sign of any more goblin activity anywhere in the vicinity.

Camp was established quickly, all dwarves were eager for sleep now that the high of battle had worn off, leaving everyone exhausted. They were not so exhausted to forgo food, however, even though all that was available to them was cram and stew; the cooks were just as ready for their bedrolls as every other dwarf.

Bifur and Suba were both two of the unlucky ones when Globir was assigning watch duties for the night, being assigned to take first watch when there was nothing they desired more than to take to their bedrolls. Vili proved themself to be a true friend by offering to keep them company during the shift, and hopefully keep them awake enough to maintain a proper watch.

It took no time at all for the dwarves not on watch to fall into a deep slumber, with heavy snoring sounding loudly around the camp. The only three dwarves still awake sat comfortably near the campfire, and continued the conversation they had been having before being rudely interrupted by goblins. Bifur was the first to ask a question of Vili.

“I don’t think you’ve ever said what you’re doing on this here journey halfway across Middle Earth. I thought at first you were just here as a plain old guard like Suba and me, but you don’t seem to have the confidence with that sword of yours to be a guard. There’s no way you’re here for the fun of it, not with two dwarflings at home, so what’s the deal then, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I’m here on family business, for my husband’s family. Someone was needed to deliver congratulations and well wishes on behalf of the family in person, so here I am. My husband isn’t able to travel himself, given the dwarflings you mentioned, and none of the other members of the family can leave their work for such a journey without leaving behind a mess of chaos.”

“What sort of well wishes can’t just be sent along in letter with the rest of the mail caravan? Why is it so important that they be delivered personally? I can’t think of anything really worth the hassle that someone would need to come in person.”

Suba nodded in agreement with Bifur’s puzzled tone.

“The celebration of the news that a new heir will soon be born to the Lord of the Iron Hills is considered to be worth the hassle, particularly to the family he has in Gunûd.”

“What?! You’re related to the royal family of Erebor? Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“It just never came up,” Vili replied defensively. “And I didn’t want to risk losing you as my friends. It’s happened a few times before. It was worst after I started courting my now husband Dís. Once word got around most everyone began treating me differently, no one would just talk to me as they would any other friend. And I just didn’t want to go through that yet again.”

Neither Bifur nor Suba knew exactly what to say to that, so they said nothing. The rest of the watch shift passed in silence, but Vili did not return to their own tent until Bifur and Suba had awoken the next unlucky dwarves to take the watch and returned to their own tent as well.

*

Vili was one of the first dwarves to wake the next morning and sat apart from the main group to eat breakfast. Even after they had finished eating Vili stayed sitting there alone, until they found themself suddenly with a dwarf seated on either side of them. Bifur and Suba unceremoniously dropped to the ground, Bifur almost spilling the contents of her bowl. Suba snorted in amusement and nudged Vili in the side.

“Always been clumsy, Bifur has. There are times I wonder how she hasn’t cut a finger off when she’s carving, but that seems to be the one thing she’s actually good at.”

Bifur made a rude inglishmêk, and lifted her bowl for a moment, before lowering it again, instead grabbing Vili’s bowl from their hands and throwing it at Suba’s head. When Vili made a sound of protest Bifur pulled an exaggerated face of indignation.

“What else was I meant to throw at her? I couldn’t let such an insult to my honour go unchallenged, and there was no way I was willing to waste perfectly good food for such a purpose.”

Bifur had maintained her facial expression, and Vili was unable to not laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. From that point forward, they continued their friendship as it had been before Vili’s revelation. Occasionally Vili would surreptitiously set up their tent away from where Bifur and Suba’s was placed, giving the couple as much privacy as it was possible to have when travelling as part of a group.

*

Weeks passed as the caravan steadily made its way across the northern route to the Iron Hills. Several times they were attacked by small groups of orcs or goblins; there were several injuries gained by some of the guards, but nothing serious, and thankfully no fatalities.

The day came when Globir made an announcement that had the whole caravan cheering- they were only two weeks out from their destination, making it two weeks until they could once again eat decent food, drink to their hearts content, and most importantly sleep in a proper bed. That night when camp was set up there was a definite air of celebration. A barrel of ale was brought out, and every dwarf was permitted to have one mug worth to drink- not enough to cause inebriation, for it was always necessary to be prepared for a sudden attack, but enough to foster the good mood of the camp.

 The next morning all of the dwarves were in high spirits, still excited from the news of an end to the journey being in sight. All dwarves except Bifur, that was. Although she had not partaken in more drinking than any other dwarf in the camp she felt as though she had spent the entire night in a tavern. Typically Bifur was the first to rise of the pair, but on this morning she simply rolled over and dragged the blankets over her head, and attempted to ignore the loud nature of dwarves.

When Suba awoke she was surprised to notice Bifur seemingly asleep still, but she simply shrugged and went to fetch breakfast for the three of them, including Vili. It took longer than she would have liked to make the return trip, constantly being greeted and pulled into conversation with almost every dwarf she passed. The call to prepare to move on was given as Suba reached her tent, where she was concerned to realise Bifur had still not made any effort to get up. Setting down the three bowls as quickly as she could without just dropping them Suba rushed to Bifur’s side and started to stroke her beard.

“Bifur. Hey. I know you’re awake, stop pretending to still be asleep. What’s wrong? Do you not feel well?”

Bifur merely grunted in response, and attempted to burrow under the blankets again. Suba wasn’t willing to accept that as an answer however, and gave a sharp tug on Bifur’s beard to grab her attention again.

“Enough of that. We need to be ready to move out soon, or they’ll leave without us. No way they’ll be willing to wait, not when we’re close to the Iron Hills at long last. Come on, up you get, we still haven’t even eaten yet.”

Slowly Bifur made to rise out of her bedroll, before standing suddenly and rushing to the outside of the tent. Vili, who was standing at the entrance to the tent was almost knocked over in Bifur’s rush, the reason for which became obvious when she began emptying the contents of her stomach, leaning on a nearby tree for support.

Vili came to a sudden realisation, for they were very familiar with the symptoms Bifur was currently displaying. The first time 6 years ago, the second time having happened last year. The sudden sickness, an unwillingness to rise from bed, signs only beginning after drinking even a small amount alcohol. They matched the experiences of Vili’s husband Dís both times he was pregnant. So Vili couldn’t help but shout out, perhaps more loudly than was necessary.

“Bifur- you’re pregnant!”

*

Vili’s shout was overheard by several nearby dwarves, and it took almost no time for every dwarf in the caravan to have heard the news. By the time it reached Globir the buoyant mood of camp was even greater than it had been the night before, and the decision was made to delay their departure for several hours to maintain the good cheer. It was not uncommon for tempers to fray amongst dwarves who are forced to spend long times together, especially when separated from kin, and Globir was pleased with anything to prevent the problems caused by dwarfish tempers coming to a head.

After midday the dwarves of the caravan were willing enough to continue their trek, particularly because the end was in sight. Progress was not as fast as it usually had been, with dwarves halting every now and then to speak to Bifur and Suba, to offer congratulations on the news of a dwarfling, and to offer the traditional blessings to a pregnant bearer and prayers to Mahal for the birth of a healthy dwarfling.

It took until after dinner that evening for Bifur and Suba to finally have a chance to talk privately about the revelation. Vili had recognised the need for privacy and set their own tent up away from them without needing to be asked. They had set up their bedrolls side by side, allowing them to lie next to each other, Suba with her arms wrapped protectively around Bifur. Neither wanted to be the first to break the silence, but when Suba’s hand dropped lower to rest on Bifur’s belly, Bifur spoke quietly.

“I’m scared kurdûh. We don’t know if we’ll be able to do well enough with a shop to keep ourselves going. Now there’s going to be a baby to look after too. What if we can’t do it?”

“Look at me.”

Reluctantly, Bifur rolled over so that Suba was able to look into her eyes as she began to stroke her hair and beard.

“I promise you it will all work out, no matter what. And if it somehow doesn’t we will find a way together to make it work. I swear it. I won’t let anything stop us from being happy together, our little family. I would stand against Mahal himself if that’s what it took. ”

Lying together in each other’s arms Suba continued to whisper reassurances to Bifur until they both fell asleep, and did not wake until the morning.

*

The final two weeks of travel passed by much quicker than any previous period during their journey. The Iron Hills appeared first as a vague shape on the horizon, and continued to grow clearer the closer they drew to their destination. With only one day travel left to go as they set up camp for the final time, no real consideration was given to ensuring the safety of the camp for the night. It was assumed that no creatures would be willing to venture close enough to cause problems when they were so close to the main settlement of the Iron Hills.

That assumption was proven wrong in the middle of the night, when the full moon was at its peak in the sky. Bifur had awoken with a pressing need to visit the latrine, and it was as she was returning to her tent she caught sight of something or someone creeping around the camp. Her hand reached automatically for her weapon, but of course she had not felt the need to carry it with her, relying on the camp to be a safe environment.

Cursing quietly to herself she continued to walk as though she had noticed nothing amiss, hoping to be able to raise the alarm without alerting the intruders they had been detected. That became impossible, however, when she noticed how close some of the intruders already were to the outermost tents. An immediate warning was needed or else there would be no chance for those dwarves to be able to defend themselves. It was only then Bifur was able to identify their attackers.

“Orcs! Orcs in the camp! Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!”

The camp erupted into chaos almost instantly. Dwarves emerged from their tents in varying states of undress- no time was wasted in putting on clothes when there were enemies to be defeated. The dwarven war cry was echoed loudly by all the dwarves as they joined the fray. Bifur somehow found herself with an axe in her hands, unsure of who had handed it to her. It was far from being her weapon of choice, and she was very out of practice in using an axe, but it was far superior to being caught in a fight weaponless.

Her focus was on returning to her own tent so she could begin fighting in earnest, with her own weapon, and to be able to fight side by side with Suba. Vili would also most likely be near Suba, and together they would be able to take the brunt of the fighting and keep the less experienced fighter safe.

Making her way across the camp was difficult and progress was slow. Orcs who got in her way were soon taken care of, but it was not easy when fighting with an unfamiliar weapon. The effort was taking its toll on Bifur, each swing of the axe was slower, and her enemies’ attacks came closer to connecting.

Five dead orcs and what seemed like hours later Bifur had finally reached her target. Neither Suba nor Vili were in sight yet, but the tent still stood, and it took mere seconds for Bifur to duck inside and claim her boar spear. A sudden scream of pain had Bifur freezing in shock. It unmistakably had been Suba.

Bifur charged from the tent in a haze of battle fever determined to find her partner, Mahal help anyone who stood in her way. She barely registered the orcs coming at her, putting them out of their misery without a second thought, focused only on searching for Suba. A flash of blond hair was her first sign of where Vili was, and where they were was the best chance Bifur had of locating Suba.

Vili was fighting valiantly, but it was clear they were not a warrior by nature, weariness showing through as they stood guard over a fallen dwarf. The dwarf on the ground was unmistakably Suba, and Bifur let out another shout of the dwarven war cry before taking down the three nearby orcs in quick succession. She dropped to her knees next to Suba, and was relieved beyond measure to see the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Her wound was a deep slash from right shoulder to left hip, and though it could still prove fatal, Bifur held on to hope that all was not lost as long as Suba was breathing.

Bifur was so distracted in her relief at finding Suba alive still she was caught unaware by an orc who had circled around in the hope of catching them off their guard. It succeeded in knocking Bifur’s spear out of reach before its presence was noticed. Bifur attempted to fight it off as best she could while unarmed, but there was a sudden pain in in her head, then nothing.

*

Pain. All there was was pain. There were sounds that may have been voices talking, but Bifur couldn’t make out what they saying, which was unimportant when compared to the pain. A hand was pulling her jaw open and a foul tasting liquid was poured into her mouth, and she surrendered to the nothingness, because the pain couldn’t follow her there.

The same pattern repeated itself several times, each time Bifur would come to awareness surrounded by nothing but pain until healers would force her to drink some concoction sending her back into the darkness. The words in the background became a little clearer each time, but there was still no sense to be made from them. All she could make out was the odd word or phrase here or there “unbelievable,” “impossible,” and once “others dead.” The mention of a dwarf or dwarves having not survived was enough to set Bifur into a panic; it took four healers to restrain her to the bed while a fifth managed to sedate her.

The next time Bifur awoke the pain had receded enough that she was able to think about something other than just the pain. It still felt as though her skull had been split in two and any movement made it even worse, but for the first time she attempted to open her eyes. The only furniture in the small room was a chair beside the bed she occupied. There was also a bench on the far side of the room cluttered with many vials and jars of who-knows-what, typical of an infirmary.

A soft gasp of surprise from the doorway had Bifur turning her head suddenly, something she regretted immediately when it caused a surge of pain in her head. The dwarf, clearly a healer, rushed to put down the armful of new medicines on the bench, before beginning to tend to Bifur.

“I’m surprised to see you awake so soon after that last dose. We were expecting it to take a lot longer, if ever, for you to be aware and alert after taking an injury like that.”

Bifur paid no attention to what the healer continued to say, something about the axe and how it was unsafe for them to attempt to remove it without causing more damage than there already was. She followed the instructions given by the healer to look here and there, move this limb, now the other, but all she cared about was what had happened to Suba. She recalled what she had overheard she didn’t know how long ago, and a feeling of dread welled up in the pit of her stomach. ‘What happened to my partner?’ she wanted to ask, but when she tried the words wouldn’t come.

Again she tried to ask, and again the words were wrong- just a meaningless jumble of syllables. The healer was watching her carefully, as though trying to guess what Bifur was trying to say. Growling in frustration Bifur decided to try another tactic, asking a third time but in inglishmêk now.

The look of sorrow on the healers face was answer enough for Bifur without needing to hear the healer say the words. She curled onto her side on the bed, facing away from the healer as silent tears began to run down her face. Then the healer spoke again, words that brought Bifur’s whole word crashing down around her.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to tell you. The pregnancy… We did all we could, but in the end there was nothing to be done. May they both find peace in Mahal’s Halls.”

Bifur’s howl of grief was loud enough to be heard throughout the infirmary. For many hours she sobbed uncontrollably until she has exhausted herself into restless sleep.

*

A week later the funerals were held for Suba, Vili, and the three other dwarves who had also perished in the attack. The Lord of the Iron Hills, Dáin Ironfoot himself officiated the proceedings, but Bifur was still too numb in her grief to recognise or care the level of honour such a thing represented. All she cared about was how she never again would be able to hold her love in her arms, never again speak of their future together, and never be able to hold their child in her arms.

Arrangements were made for her return to Blue Mountains, and she went along with the plans. She had no care where she found herself, anywhere she was was still where Suba was not. Though every mile closer to home was another mile further away from the resting place of her love, she clung to the small comfort of knowing there was a resting place that she could one day return to and pay her respects. Many did not have that comfort, especially the families of the warriors fallen during the Battle of Azanulbizar, known as Burned Dwarves.

The other dwarves she was travelling with soon stopped attempting to engage her in idle conversation when it became clear she would not respond. When it was necessary to talk she was uninhibited in her ability to speak Khuzdul as well as Inglishmêk, but speaking the common tongue was an impossibility despite her clear understanding when others spoke it.

*

Seeing Bofur and Bombur again after so long, and after everything that had happened had Bifur breaking down again, like she hadn’t been able to do since the funeral. The three of them together shared their grief, and for the first time since waking up with an axe in her skull Bifur felt the heavy weight of despair she had carried lift, by just the smallest amount.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul translations
> 
> Gunûd- underground halls. I imagine Dwarves aren't the most creative when it comes to naming their settlements.


	2. Kili's Prank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili has an idea for a prank. But will it go according to plan?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: none.

**2941**

 

Kili was tired of running messages back and forth throughout Gunûd. Thorin had her acting as messenger in the lead up to them leaving on the Quest, saying that if she wanted to come she needed to prove her determination. She had just spoken to the stable master about the ponies they would need, and as she began the long walk back to the Council Chambers to report back she was struck by an idea.

It was the perfect prank, as long as she could actually pull it off. The chances of her managing to get her hands on Grasper and Keeper were low, Dwalin was rarely seen without her beloved axes. Maybe if she snuck into his rooms while she was asleep, but no. She snorted quietly to herself. Knowing Dwalin she probably slept cuddled up with them. If she enlisted Fili’s help it might be possible, get Fili to challenge Dwalin to a no weapons sparring session perhaps?

She left a message with one of the Council aides to pass on the stable master’s words to Balin or Thorin. Kili had better things to do than wait around playing messenger, and then probably be sent off on another pointless errand. Before she could be spotted she made a quick exit, and decided the most likely place to find Fili at this time of day was the training grounds.

Just as she had expected, Fili was there, quite literally beating the stuffing out of a practice dummy. He was so focused on the destruction that he didn’t notice Kili’s presence for a good five minutes, until she called out to him.

“Nadad. What on earth did that training dummy do that has offended you so? Did it insult you and your twin swords?”

Fili didn’t answer his sister, merely glared at her silently before he turned and walked away, beginning to head home. Kili sighed before following her brother, being certain to walk as close to him as possible without actually making contact. She ducked his half-hearted swing, laughing.

“You know you need to do better than that to hit me. Will you tell me what’s wrong? You should be excited- less than a week till we leave!”

Fili mumbled something under his breath that Kili didn’t quite catch, but sounded a lot like ‘that’s the problem.’

It wasn’t the first time Kili had noticed her brother reacting oddly whenever there was mention made of the plan to reclaim Erebor. She wasn’t exactly sure what the root of the problem was, although she had several theories. Thorin’s expectations had always weighed heavily on her brother, for all he tried to hide it. They had gotten heavier in the past weeks as plans were made for the Quest to reclaim their home. The prospect of being heir to a proper kingdom instead of a scattered people in exile also played a role. Kili had also noticed Fili’s presence when she was at the training grounds, watching her. Ever since they were children he had taken his role as a big brother seriously, sometimes too much so. If he wasn’t worried for her safety (no matter how much he tried to deny it), then Kili would eat her beard.

Whatever Fili’s problem was, Kili was sure her plan was a surefire way to lighten him up a bit. There was no way it could fail. “I have the greatest idea for a prank! It’ll be the best one we’ve pulled off in ages.”

“Well, tell me about this fantastic idea then.”

“No. Not until you promise to help me with it.”

“I have things I need to do, I don’t have time for this.”

“Don’t have time for what laddie?” Dwalin’s sudden appearance in the hallway took both Fili and Kili by surprise, although Fili hid it better than his sister.

“Whatever nonsense Kili has planned. I have a stack of paperwork as tall as my forearm to get done, on top of all the preparations needed before we depart.”

“What about you Dwalin, what do you have planned this fine afternoon?” Kili gave Dwalin her most innocent smile, but she didn’t seem to buy it and rolled her eyes at the young Princess.

“Not that it’s any concern of yours, but I’m about to get some more work done on my newest tattoo. I want it finished before leave.”

Kili’s face lit up at the mere mention of tattoos, she was eager to have some of her own as soon as she was able. However, although she was seven years past her majority Dis had said no, and that was the final word on the matter. Kili had no design she wanted badly enough for it to be worth the wrath of her father. Even pleading with Thorin had been no help, he wasn’t any more willing to brave Dis’s anger. Going on this quest to reclaim their home would be something worth commemorating, and Kili was sure there could be no objections after that.

“What are you getting done and where Dwalin?”

“What business of it is yours?”

“I was just wondering. What’s gotten your beard all in a knot?”

“Sorry lassie. I don’t like being without my axes. Damn inkist doesn’t let anyone bring weapons in anymore, since that incident the other month. It makes me edgy when I don’t have them handy.”

“Fair enough. Will you show us tomorrow?”

“If I’m not too busy. I don’t have time to stay and chat, that inkist runs on a tight schedule since he’s one of the best. Only reason I tolerate the rule to be honest.”

As soon as Dwalin was out of earshot Kili grabbed her brother by the arm and dragged him down the hallway.

“Kili, what in Mahal’s name are you doing? This isn’t the way home. I swear, you’re worse than Uncle Thorin sometimes with your sense of direction.”

“Shut up. I’m not going the wrong way, because we’re not going home. We need to go to Dwalin’s rooms. This could be the only chance we have to get our hands on Grasper and Keeper.”

Fili stopped dead. “Mahal’s dusky tits. Of all the stupid ideas you’ve ever had this has to be the worst. If Dwalin catches us touching them we won’t have to worry about Smaug, because we’ll be dead before we can leave the mountain.”

“We won’t be caught, I’m sure of it. Dwalin will be gone for hours, and there’s no where else she’ll have left them. This could be the only chance we have for this, we can’t waste it!”

“No. No, I’m not doing this. You’re on your own.”

“Fine. You can tell me what’s been going on with you lately. You’ve been acting really weird the past few weeks, ever since Uncle started planning for Erebor.”

“There’s nothing going on. I’m fine.”

Kili didn’t even attempt to hide her disbelief at that. “Sure. That’s why you’ve all but destroyed  six, no wait, seven training dummies lately. You haven’t been eating properly either. I worry about you.” She reached forward and pulled her brother into a solid hug. “You know I’m always here for you nadad. You don’t need to keep everything to yourself. I’m here, whatever you need.”

Fili squeezed his sister tight before letting go. “I know nun’el. I know. There are just some things I cannot talk about. At least right now.”

“Okay. If you’re not going to talk to me, the least you can do is help me with this prank.”

Shaking his head at just how determined and single-minded his sister could be when she put her mind to it Fili agreed, even though he still had no idea just what, exactly, he was getting himself into.

Together they made their way to Dwalin’s quarters, and to their delight found the door unlocked. “That makes things nice and simple, hey?”

Once inside the hunt began for Grasper and Keeper. Kili started her search in the bedroom, while Fili looked through the main room. After five minutes of searching yielded no results Kili remembered the small closet just inside the entryway. It was the perfect place for Dwalin to keep her weapons, so she could grab them on her way out the door, even if she was in a rush. She called out to Fili to share her brilliant idea, only to stop dead when she realised they weren’t as alone as she thought they were.

“Dare I ask what exactly has you two trouble makers in my sister’s room?”

“Balin! We didn’t expect to see you here. We were just… Fili, tell Balin why we’re here.”

Shooting his sister a venomous glare Fili tried to come up with a credible excuse. “Dwalin asked us to get something for her. She was in a rush to get to the inkist, and wanted us to fetch it for her.”

Balin’s expression didn’t change, but it was clear he didn’t believe them for a second. “Is that so. I’m just here to drop off some paperwork for Dwalin, now that the Council session has finished. That means your Uncle has plenty of time to speak with you. You can tell him about just whatever it is you needed to get. Come along now.”

Dejected, they both followed Balin from Dwalin’s rooms. As he led them to Thorin’s office Kili tried to start a silent conversation in Ingleshmek with Fili.

“At least it was Balin, not Dwalin who caught us.”

Fili ignored his sister, not that it made any difference to attempts at talking to him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell Thorin it was all my idea, he can’t punish you too much for it when it’s all my fault.”

Kili decided to take the hint when Fili tried to elbow her in the ribs, and they continued the rest of the walk to Thorin in total silence.

Thorin’s reaction was about as bad as Kili expected. He started with the standard ‘I’m disappointed in you’ speech, which stung just as much as ever. No matter how often they has heard the words from their Uncle it hurt every time. The last thing they wanted was to let him down, but their shame turned to outrage with his next words.

“It’s not too late for me to change my mind on allowing you to come. I can and I will leave you behind if I don’t think you’re willing to treat this with the seriousness it deserves. You argued for weeks to have the right to join, told me how important it was- now you need to prove it.”

“Uncle, you can’t not take us with you! It wasn’t Fili’s fault anyway. It was all my idea, I deserve the blame.”

“It is my prerogative who I choose to be by my side, and I will only have those I can trust. You accepting responsibility for your actions is a small step in the right direction. You will both still be punished however. Fili, tomorrow you belong to Balin. Whatever orders he has, you will carry out. Consider yourself excused.”

Fili nodded once, before leaving the room as quickly as he could without running from it.

“Kili. Oin is need of help preparing his healing supplies in preparation for the quest. Starting tomorrow, and continuing for as long as Oin needs help, you will be assisting him. Whatever he tells you to do, you will do with complaining. Am I understood?”

“Yes Uncle. Can I go now?”

At Thorin’s nod, Kili left just as fast as Fili had.

Determined to show she was taking her punishment seriously Kili showed up at the infirmary early the next morning, there before any of the day staff. She didn’t have to wait long for Oin’s arrival, the healer putting in long hours each day in order to be ready in time, on top of completing the other duties he still had to his patients.

“Good morning Kili, nice to see you here ready to go. Your uncle’s told me all about it, and I’m glad for the extra pair of hands. First thing you can do for me is sorting out all these vials and jars. The shelves are labelled with what goes where, put anything not marked to the side and I’ll figure them out later. Any that are empty should be taken to be washed so they can be reused. Once you’ve done that I’ll have a better idea of what I still need to prepare.”

The work took all day to be done, and by the end Kili had a headache. Some of the handwriting was positively tiny, and straining for so long to read it had consequences. Oin was happy enough to give her something to relieve the pain, with a promise that the next day would be spent on better tasks.

Better was obviously a subjective opinion Kili grumbled to herself. There was nothing enjoyable about rolling strips of cloth into bandages. It was dull, repetitive work and Kili was fed up with it before she was even a quarter of the way through. She kept her complaints mostly to herself, she knew it was meant to be punishment and no one would have any sympathy if she was to whinge about it.

The third day was decent in Kili’s opinion. Oin had her preparing herbs in various ways, and even following basic instructions to make some ointments and elixirs. She found the work enjoyable, much to her surprise, but she wasn’t disappointed at all when she was told that the next day would be final day Oin needed her assistance.

The fourth and final day started much like the previous one. Following Oin’s directions she continued with the preparing of herbs and other plants. When she stopped for lunch, she was unable to sit still. For some reason there was an itch that just wouldn’t go away, no matter how much she scratched it. Oin noticed her discomfort, and when he noticed that she had most recently been working with rose hips he couldn’t contain his amusement.

“Didn’t I warn you about them? You need to be careful when cutting them open, the little hairs cause itching something fierce. As you’ve no doubt found out.”

“Is there any way to make it stop?”

“Only thing for it is to wash. Make sure you don’t put the same clothes back on either, that’ll just defeat the point. You’ve done a good job these past few days. Head on home now, don’t worry about finishing the rest.”

“Thank you Oin! I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least clean the workbench before I went.”

Kili had an ulterior motive in wanting access to the last of the rose hips. Something that could cause so much discomfort so quickly was sure to come in handy at some point, and she didn’t want to miss her chance. An evil grin crossed her face as she contemplated just who her first victim should be.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul translations
> 
> Gunûd- the underground halls  
> Nadad- brother  
> Nun'el- sister of all sisters


	3. Thorin's Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Misgendering. A lot of it. 
> 
> For those unfamiliar with the terms, I'm using Monarch and Princen as gender neutral alternatives to King/Queen and Prince/Princess. Ze/hir are also gender neutral pronouns used in this chapter.

Much was lost the day Smaug cam to Erebor. Certainly it was gold the dragon coveted, and that was the extent of his interest in the mountain he now claimed as his. But for the Dwarves, much more than mere gold was taken from them. Fleeing the mountain meant leaving behind their homes and their livelihoods, their heritage and history, and far too many Dwarves lost their lives to Smaug's flames or to starvation and exposure in the following days and weeks.

Even though ze was only 24 Princen Thorin felt responsibility for the losses of each and every Dwarf as if it were hir own. On top of the suffering of hir people, Thorin had to push aside grief of hir own. His mother Soiran and her parents, hir grandparents, had not managed to make it out of the mountain before the front gate had become blocked. The full extent of hir loss would not be realised until decades later, and when it was ze was struck with grief as deep as it was when the tragedy first occurred.

From the day of the loss of Erebor Thorin became known as a Prince of his people. Being seen as something ze was not chafed every day. Every time one of the merchants of Men addressed him as ‘Sir’ with barely veiled contempt, or the leader of a town called him ‘Prince’ with a sneer all ze wanted was to let loose with hit fists to teach them a lesson, but no. Ze had always been taught by Thrain and Thror that hir duties as Princen, and one day as Monarch, came with a responsibility to their people, and serving their needs came before personal desire.

For all that Thorin hated being seen as male, ze knew that being seen as female was not what ze wanted either. For one thing dealing with non-Dwarves would be much more difficult, losing hir the small amount of respect ze had with them. Men were obstinate when it came to their opinions on who were capable of which jobs, meaning Dwarves had long since learned to pretend to all be male when interacting with them.

The ruling line often bore this burden, with the current Monarch known as a King regardless of gender, and their spouse as Queen. Thorin had always been aware that ze would need such duplicity when ze was Monarch, and even as heir to the throne, but to live with it almost constantly was almost unbearable. Ze was unsure of hir gender, and before the coming of Smaug had been learning to understand hirself, but any hope of that was extinguished in the flames.

*

It wasn’t until the age of 95, seventy years after the fall of Erebor, that Thorin realised the full cost of Smaug. News of the disappearance of hir parent Thrain had just been brought to him by Balin, and the weight of the future of Durin’s Folk now rested heavily on hir shoulders. From this day forward ze was to be King, and ze had little hope that hir parent would return to relieve him of the burden.

Ze asked to be left to deal with hir grief privately with hir brother Dis, and together they mourned, not only for Thrain, but for all the family they had lost since Smaug’s coming. Exhausted by their tears they fell into an uneasy sleep, clinging to each other tightly, afraid to lose the only family they had left. Thorin woke the next morning to the sudden realisation that from this point onwards ze would trapped more completely than ever before by the Men’s limited and restrictive understanding of gender.

When Thrain had been bearing Thorin and his siblings, they had been released from any duties which involved dealing with outsiders. Their months long absences each time had been explained to the Men as travelling to other Dwarven realms, and thus their secrets were kept safe.

But as leader of a people in exile, Thorin didn’t have that option. Ze needed to roam far in the warmer months, earning a pitiful amount of coins and attempting to deal with the Men nearby. Even if ze could somehow remain in the settlement of Ganûd for the length of a pregnancy, ze could not bring an infant with hir and care for them. Thorin would never be free to bear a child of hir own while the Dwarves of Erebor were denied a stable home.

The fit of destructive rage prompted by this realisation led to no one approaching Thorin for a whole week. The only one brave enough to risk hir wrath was Dwalin, and once Thorin explained the issue to her, she didn’t say a word and simply dragged Thorin to the nearest tavern, where they proceeded to attempt to drink the place dry. They awoke in the morning with matching hangovers, feeling as though Mahal’s Hammer was using their skulls as an anvil, but Dwalin didn’t let the pain stop her from making a vow to her best friend.

“I swear to you on Mahal’s Forge that I will not bear a child until you also have the opportunity. May the Maker strike me down if I am false.”

“Dwalin, you don’t need to do this. At least one of us should be able to have the joy of new life. I know how much it’s something you want, do not sacrifice this for me.”

“My loyalty is to you. It always has been, and always will be. Don’t expect me to get all speechy about it, that’s Balin’s area, not mine, but you know it’s the truth and has been for as long as I can remember. You are my King.”

Rather than answer hir friend in words, Thorin dragged Dwalin to the training grounds. After several rounds there were no words needed. They always could communicate with each other better through actions. They made a sorry sight afterwards, both still battling hangovers in addition to the multitude of cuts and bruises, but there was laughter between them, marking the dramatic improvement in Thorin’s mood from the past week.

That evening Thorin had an announcement to make to the kin closest to hir, namely Dis, Balin, and Dwalin. Ze told them that from this day onwards he was to be known as King Thorin, and to be referred to as male, even when solely in the company of Dwarves. He was not pleased with the decision he had been forced to make, but it was what he felt best for his own sake. If he was to spend so much time with Men known as male, it would be easiest to face when it was consistent, rather than being reminded of what he could not have whenever he was amongst Dwarves.

*

Seventeen years later there was much celebrating in Ganûd when Dis announced his pregnancy. Several months into the pregnancy, happiness turned to anger when Dis was forced to heed the same restrictive opinions of Men that had impacted Thorin for so many years.

From the time he was able to talk Dis had been certain of himself as a boy, the ease with which he knew was something Thorin had always envied. Frerin had been the same as Dis, certain from a very young age that she was a girl.

Bearing a child was no excuse for laziness or shirking one's responsibilities, and Dis still had his duties as a Prince. Often it fell to Dis to act as Regent whenever Thorin was away for long periods of time. It was on one such occasion that Dis, a month from delivering and clearly pregnant, needed to step in to mediate a disagreement between a Dwarven trader and a farmer from the race of Men.

Word spread from there amongst the nearby towns of Men that the King’s sister was expecting a child. Five years later, when Dis was pregnant again, the same thing happened. Word again spread, bringing messengers exclaiming their well wishes for the sister of the King. This time there was another victim of the beliefs of Men. Little Fili was far too young to understand why those around him insisted on calling his Adad a lady, all because he was having a new baby.

Thorin’s heart broke, however, when Fili asked him if the same thing would happen to him too when he was older if he had a baby. When he explained that yes, if Men knew he was a bearer they would assume him to be lady, Fili stomped his foot and stubbornly declared that he just would never have a baby. It was all Thorin could do to calmly suggest Fili go ask Balin for a treat before he stormed to the training grounds and worked his anger out on a practice dummy.

Through no fault of Fili Thorin had been reminded of one of his deepest wounds. He had never had any interest in the activities which resulted in the creation of dwarflings, but the desire for a little one of his own still burned strongly.

There was a sense of relief to Dis having Fili, and the soon to be second dwarfling, in providing the Line of Durin with its next generation, but more than that was their presence in his life. It was clear that his niblings were the closest he would ever come to children of his own, and he was determined to be a positive influence in their lives. He wanted to be closer to them than they simply being his heirs.

*

Not six months after the birth of Kili tragedy struck their family again. Dis’s spouse Vili was killed when orcs attacked the caravan they had been travelling with to the Iron Hills to speak with Dain. Although he would never speak to anyone of such things, Thorin couldn’t help but feel as though it was his fault that Fili and Kili had lost their parent. If he hadn’t asked Vili to travel as messenger, then they would still be here alive to watch their children grow up into the fine young Dwarves they were sure to be.

Dis never gave any indication he blamed Thorin, but Thorin still felt a measure of distance that had not been there before. In the past their shared losses brought them closer together, supporting each other, but now it seemed different. Dis instead clung to his children, and Thorin was at a loss for what to do, so did nothing.

Shortly after Kili’s first birthday Balin was the one to suggest Thorin conduct a Burfel ceremony.

“I think it would be the best for everyone, Thorin. I know you don’t plan to bear any children yourself, which leaves Dis as next in line, followed by her children. We both know Dis prefers to work with the council and has no interest in the throne itself, acting as Regent in your stead is enough to have him ready to tear his braids out.”

Thorin couldn’t suppress his chuckle at the memory of the last time he had travelled in search of work, and returned to Ganûd to see Dis quite literally cracking heads together when other members of the council refused to cooperate with him.

“That is true. However, I would not want to be the one to suggest this idea of yours to him. Any hint of wanting to take Fili and Kili away would find you with your beard torn out, seeing as you have no braids to speak of.”

“I am not suggesting that at all. You as a second parent to the dwarflings would take nothing from Dis, and would make things simpler in several ways. If the worst were to occur, and something was to happen to Dis as it did Vili, you would clearly be the next to provide for them. It would also simplify the matter of the line of succession. As your children legally they would be your heirs, undisputably.”

“That does make sense. You can still be the one to bring it up with Dis. I have no doubt that he will not take the idea well coming from me.”

Dis was willing to consider the proposal, but insisted that the decision rested with Fili and Kili themselves, when they were old enough to make the choice for themselves.  Thus, the matter was not spoken of again for a decade.

*

“Naddan, can you come in here please. Your Uncle Thorin, Balin, and I have something important we need to talk to you about.”

Nervously, Fili and Kili made there way to the sitting room where the adults were waiting for them. Neither could think of anything they had done recently that they could be in trouble for, but Kili’s apprehension got the better of her and she blurted out a preemptive defense.

“Whatever it is, we didn’t do it!”

“That doesn’t sound suspicious at all nâtha, but no. You and your brother aren’t in trouble for anything. We have an idea, but it is up to you to decide yes or no.”

While Dis had been speaking Kili had decided that Balin’s lap was where she wanted to be, quite possibly because he had the longest beard, and she could use it to hide behind in case there was to be trouble after all. The adults had decided before hand that Thorin should be the one to explain the situation to Fili and Kili.

“Balin was the first to suggest this idea, and your father and I agree with him, that it would be a good idea for me to formally adopt you both as my children. It won’t change anything at all really, just make it clear to everyone how closely I see you as my family. Fili, the plan is for you to eventually become King after me, and this would make it extra sure that that’s what will happen. I love both of you as much as I would if you were my own children, and that’s what this would show. Do either of you have any questions you want to ask?”

Kili shook her head and seemed happy with the idea, but Fili was less so. He had a look of concern on his face, and Thorin waited patiently for him to voice whatever was on his mind. When he finally spoke, it was a very hesitant question.

“What… What about Lashar? I don’t want to forget about them.”

“Come here, my son. Of course, no one here wants to forget Vili. We all love them and miss them very much. Thorin isn’t here to take over their place in your lives, nothing could do that. One day we’ll all be reunited in Mahal’s Halls, and I’m sure that when the time comes they’ll be so proud of you. Both of you.”

Kili took that as her cue to jump laps, and cuddle in with her father and older brother. Thorin couldn’t help but make a silent prayer that it would be at least a couple of centuries before that reunion took place.

“I think yes. I love Uncle Thorin, so yes.”

The second yes from Kili was spoken with an emphatic head nod, which was far more adorable than any dwarfling had a right to be. Realising it was now all on him Fili also nodded, but without the intensity of Kili.

“Yes. I want to do it too. How does it work?”

Balin was the one to explain the particulars of the ceremony, which was rather simple all told. Thorin would swear promises to Mahal, and then it was up to Fili and Kili to accept. Dis also had the right to refuse on their behalf as their father, but given he was here suggesting the idea it was more of a formality than there being any chance of it actually happening.

It was decided that the ceremony would be held the following evening, in the sitting room they currently occupied. Such matters were considered private affairs of the heart, and there was no need for flashy public proclamations. The next day would also allow for Fili and Kili to be taught the correct Khuzdul phrases they needed to say for their role in the ceremony.

So it was that they gathered in the sitting room again, this time all wearing their most formal outfits, and Kili had even been convinced to sit still for long enough to allow Dis to put one braid in her hair. Speaking in Khuzdul Thorin began to speak his part of the ceremony.

“I, Thorin, son of Thrain, child of Thror, do declare my intent to become parent and guardian to Fili son of Vili, and Kili daughter of Vili. I swear to always do my best to be worthy of the honour. I swear to always act in their interests, to be their teacher and their protector. This I vow to Mahal, in the presence of Dis, son of Thrain, and Balin, son of Fundin.”

“I, Fili, son of Vili, accept this vow.”

“I, Kili, daughter of Vili, accept this vow.”

“If there are no objections,” Balin paused for a moment before continuing, “then I declare the Burfel ceremony complete!”

As Fili and Kili both came in to hug him, Thorin made one more silent vow to himself. ‘One day, somehow, I will see Erebor reclaimed. For them. From this day forward, everything I do, I do for them.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul Translations
> 
> Gunûd- the underground halls  
> Nâtha- daughter  
> Naddan- children  
> Lashar- parent

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://www.thudworm.tumblr.com).
> 
> If you liked it comment and let me know?


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